Paint Me Blind
by Nikkorin
Summary: Based on an image from Pixiv - He was so tired of searching, so weary of this fleeting phantom who stirred up so many emotions he had thought he were incapable of feeling. Modern AU - No real plot


Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in Shingeki no Kyoujin  
Based on this image: post/58084304698/surfacage-a-dream-a-dream-of-you

Author Comments below

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It'd been this way his entire adulthood. Blurs of colors smeared with reckless abandon, holding a gentleness only conveyed on the rigid confines of the canvas in front of him. Each stroke a chord of unspoken emotion, feelings beyond words. There hadn't been a day that had gone by that this image was not conveyed on some medium. A face that haunted his dreams, tore at his soul and ate at his heart. An image he felt so deep into his soul but could not grasp even a cusp of clarity.

Levi was a moderately simple person, and though life had not been a road easy ventured, he'd come to understand that many experiences were not learned without hardships. He was not one for sentimentality, opting that in place of just fantasizing about a mysterious face that seemed to haunt his very existence, he's managed to etch a grain of that image onto canvas. It had remained unfinished, as did all of his works of the boy.

He was so tired of searching, so weary of this fleeting phantom who stirred up so many emotions he had thought he were incapable of feeling. Sleepless nights had his companions fretting, worried over this obsession, this compulsion. He felt the emotions as clear as he felt his own heartbeat... foreign, suffocating. He felt a sense of pride, unwavering responsibility... a duty to protect, a duty to provide. Most importantly he felt an emotion so foreign to himself that it frustrated him to no end. And as he stares at the portrait set so carefully on the old easel in his study, a face without a soul beckons, gnawing at him until he has to sigh in defeat and rub the bridge of his nose to ease the stress.

A face of someone that he can't remember.

A face too young, skin too smooth, hair that glistened the purist shade of chestnut he's ever seen. A face that conveyed every emotion known to man, especially in his eyes.

Yet it wasn't right, the color was never the right shade, the essence of his life was not there. Though he'd come to realize that he could not capture such an open expression of emotions, they were too fleeting, too...free.

Levi's never been able to draw them and he hates it. He knows they are fierce, knows that they convey a strong sense of pride, a flame no one would be able to stamp out. He can't help but hesitate then, brush leveled with the canvas as he stares at it so intently. The emotion is there again, clawing at his very soul and he has to stop.

The window is open next to him, a breeze fluttering through spreading the curtains around him as he gazes out, chin resting atop of his hand. He had a fairly monotonous life, a typical job on a prestigious campus in the Fine Arts department, encounters numerous faceless students, lovers, friends...all in and out of his life. But there was something missing, there had always been something missing.

One of his closest companions Irvin, acclaimed that he must have seen the kid on the streets or passing through the campus at some point after discovering the labyrinth of painted portraits in Levi's study. The black haired male had merely bit off a sarcastic comment about it but the sudden knowing look in Irwins eyes when he gazed upon the face of his phantom had his own gaze lingering longer. The blonde had merely smiled then, confusing Levi. He'd seen the recognition flicker through the older man's eyes before it had been washed away.

"Perhaps something was left unfinished in a past life."

Perhaps indeed, but perhaps it was something that should have been left buried because the pain he felt late at night, nightmares racking his frame had his heart aching, racing. He felt dirty, as if his hands were stained of the blood of a thousand men. As if with the blood of this boy who he couldn't save.

He stopped, heart stammering unfamiliarly in his chest.

His face was there in his mind again, a fleeting memory. Those eyes peering at him with such a turbulence of raw emotion and yet, despite the utter acceptance of defeat in those green orbs, he was smiling.

Smiling at him with such broken devotion.

The world around him had disappeared, masking his world in white as the breeze that skittered through the sheer curtains engulfed him. Paintbrush forgotten, jars of colored water glittering in the rays of light that had filtered through, he could almost see his phantom standing in front of him so broken by the world but so willfully strong at the same time.

In sheer frustration, he reached for the image, grabbing onto nothing but air as the boy vanished.

Though he'd never been there to begin with, Levi had to remind himself over and over. It was irritating, almost maddening, was he going crazy?

Or was this some sort of punishment?

Levi couldn't help the 'tsk' of frustration that escaped his lips, leaning forward. His palms were dyed red with paint. It was only getting worse,

A solid firm knock at his door jostled him from his thoughts, had irritation rising up. Irvin was the only visitor who'd know to find him in the studio on a Saturday afternoon. And the only one who'd actively seek him out without enduring some sort of gripe from the black haired man but he hadn't done it often so it must have been urgent.

A headache was beginning to form, and he was getting sick of these colors, of dealing with this emptiness.

"Irvin." He called upon hearing the door open. It was a bit precarious that he'd even enter without waiting for permission but he wasn't in the mood to question the blondes formalities.

"Actually... it's Eren."

The voice was smooth, sounded young but what jerked him from his seat was the utter familiarity of that tone. The stool he had been sitting on screeched across the linoleum, falling over unceremoniously to clatter to the floor. The feeling was foreign and suffocating, as if everything rushed at him at once. Emotions from all spectrums had him choking, gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles were white.

Those green eyes that haunted him so endlessly now peered over at him, conveying wordlessly the turbulence of emotions behind their depths. He could never hide them, the boy had always been an open book. Those green orbs broke away, taking in the studio, going from canvas to canvas with a loving caress before falling back to the black haired professor.

On some level Levi should have felt some sort of embarrassment, but there had been nothing in the boys eyes to make him feel so. There was a sense of knowing behind those turquoise orbs, a sense of acceptance and a quiet understanding.

"Do you remember, Heichou?"

Hands were suddenly framing his face, thumbs brushing away tears he hadn't even realized were falling.

His phantom was real.

The memories were real.

Eren was real.

Standing before him with that wide stupid grin and sparkling green eyes, Levi could only do one thing;

"Stupid brat."

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A/N: I don't really know... saw the picture, had some mellow music on...

Can't say I'm much of a writer but this crapped out of me xD No real romance, transcending relations mainly


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